


The Slickening: From Devil's Snare to Penetratio Totalus

by aibidil, bixgirl1, carpemermaid, Femme (femmequixotic), noeon (noe), shiftylinguini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, Exhibitionism, HP: EWE, Humiliation, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Praise Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 09:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11666229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bixgirl1/pseuds/bixgirl1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/femmequixotic/pseuds/Femme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/noe/pseuds/noeon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/pseuds/shiftylinguini
Summary: Sometimes help comes from the place you least expect it.





	The Slickening: From Devil's Snare to Penetratio Totalus

**Author's Note:**

> This was written round robin. Don't say we didn't warn you. 
> 
> Huge thanks to our betas, **shiftylinguini** and **chibaken**.

It was a dark and stormy night, and Harry Potter just wanted to get laid. 

He and Draco had gone on a long, romantic walk around the Forbidden Forest, snogging against trees and dodging spiders in the rain, and now, Draco had invited him down to the Potions professor’s quarters in the Slytherin dungeons. They were both dripping wet, and Harry had a hard-on the size of the Astronomy tower.

Unfortunately, Draco's arse wasn't having any of it. It was as tight as Devil's Snare, despite Harry's numerous attempts to slick him up, and Harry had no earthly idea how he was going to achieve his objective.

“Draco, you need to―”

“No, _you_ need to!” Draco interrupted, shaking his wet hair in what Harry assumed Draco thought was an intimidatingly sexy manner. It wasn't. Draco actually looked rather un-intimidatingly soggy and uptight, but Harry would be buggered if he was going to tell Draco that. Or rather, no one would be buggered, given the way things were currently progressing. 

Draco continued to scowl, and Harry blinked at him through the droplets of water splattered against his glasses. Draco wiggled on the tips of Harry’s fingers and Harry grimaced, feeling vaguely concerned about the state of the circulation in his hands. 

“Relax, is all I was going to―”

“I am relaxed!” Draco shot back, jaw clenched and sphincter clenched even tighter.

"Relax _more_ ―" Harry sighed, exasperated enough that Draco shot him another glare.

"You're not the one who has inept and horribly cold fingers uncomfortably squirming at _your_ rim!”

“Oi, they’re not that cold. If you just―” 

"If I just _what?_ " Draco interrupted, snarling pointedly. At the abrupt clicking of Harry's teeth, Draco shot him a smug look―as smug as one could look when their arse was locked up tighter than Gringotts. "See, you don’t know, either!"

Harry nudged his fingers forward experimentally. The tip of one slid in, much to their mutual surprise. 

"Warm," Harry breathed, blinking.

"Cold!" Draco squeaked back. His erection had wilted quite a bit, and he looked to be considering just telling Harry he could come on his face again—which Harry would be all in favour of, to be honest—but for his own stubborn curiosity. Draco took a deep breath, visibly trying to relax. 

Harry made a pained noise. "It won't go any farther!" he whispered, frustrated, as if Draco couldn't tell. "Okay," he said, gathering his wits, "blow on my arm."

The look on Draco's face rivaled that of a basilisk. "Blow," he sneered, "on your _arm_?"

"I mean, I’m not saying that I get off on that! Just, blow out. Like blow raspberries. In the book that Hermione bought me—"

"So help me, Salazar, if you ever mention Granger again while you have a finger up my arse..."

Harry leaned forwards, bringing his lips a millimeter away from Draco's ear. "It'll help you relax. You blow, and I'll blow you." Harry brushed his lips against Draco’s neck.

Draco's head fell back against the bed with a _thump_. Swallowing his embarrassment, he blew out a huge breath.

Harry, relieved to feel Draco's muscles unclench as effectively as if he'd muttered a silent _Alohomora_ , slid his finger in farther and lowered himself to wrap his lips around Draco's cock, which filled out satisfyingly as Harry ran his tongue around the head and wiggled his finger.

Draco moaned and shoved his hand into Harry's messy hair. Harry sucked, and Draco pulled― _hard_. 

"Ow!" Harry yelled, mouth popping off of Draco's cock. The edge of his glasses hit hard against Draco's pointy hip bone.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Draco pushed himself up on his elbows. "It's not that bloody difficult to suck a prick, Potter. You've managed it before."

"If you'd just relax..." Harry didn't care if he sounded petulant. Draco's arse clenched around Harry's fingertip again and Harry winced. "Ow." He wiggled his finger a bit deeper; Draco's hips bucked up. 

"Circe, Harry!" The look Draco gave him was offended. "Trim your sodding nails before they start drawing blood! I'm not into that particular kink."

Harry looked up at that, his eyebrow quirked. "Maybe we should talk about which ones you _are_ into." And didn't that make Draco flush, Harry noted; he'd never admit it, but seeing Draco's cheeks pink with embarrassment or anger had always been a turn on for him. Ever since their school days, in fact, and Merlin, that really explained a hell of a lot about their fifth year, Harry thought. 

"Don't be crass," Draco said, but there was a glint in his eye that Harry was fairly certain meant he was at least a little bit interested. "Besides, I think I'd rather hear yours first."

Harry snorted. "I bet you would." He tried to slip his finger in deeper, and Draco flinched, a painful grimace crossing his face. 

"Fuck," Draco said. "More lube."

Harry picked up the phial and frowned down at it. "Hey," he said after a moment, "how long have you had this?"

Draco scowled at him. "It's new."

Harry gave him a sceptical look. "You're sure?"

A heavy sigh came from the corner of the room, and a tired, silken voice said, "It's six bloody months expired, you fools. If either of you had bothered to pay attention to the colour and viscosity of the potion, it would have been sodding apparent the moment Potter poured it onto his palm."

Draco looked up at Harry in horror. "Oh, fuck, I forgot to put Severus away."

"Oh don't mind me. I was just leaving," Snape said snidely from his portrait frame, hanging in the corner of the bedroom. "And you were doing so well on your own." Harry's prick wilted a bit at the stern tones and crisp diction of his dreaded Potions Master, but then he noticed that Draco was blushing and his hips had started to wriggle slightly. Could it be that Draco was actually turned on by having his former Head of House in the room with them?  
"Er, what would you suggest, Professor?" Harry said experimentally, and damn Slytherin's saggy drawers if Draco's blush didn't deepen. "We clearly need your instruction to get it right."

Snape's upper lip curled a touch higher. "Potter, the day I help you defile Draco will be the day I―"

"The day you what?" Harry snorted. He turned sideways to hide his rapidly softening erection, hanging half-out of his undone trousers. He noticed, though, that despite Draco's initial objection, _he_ wasn't doing anything to cover up. "Die? Mock me? You're quite old-hat at all of it, I know. Care to show me something new? And why do you even _have_ a portrait of Snape in your room?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco again, then paused. "Are you getting _harder_?" he demanded incredulously.

The flush on Draco's throat deepened; his Adam's apple bobbed a bit. "O―of course not!" he said, his cock jerking hard as his eyes darted between Harry and the portrait. He covered it with one hand. Well, not so much _covered_ as _cupped_ , his palm and fingers curling over the stiff length of it. "W―why in the name of―"

Harry narrowed his eyes."You are! You're turned on by _Snape_!" he accused.

"Of all the stupid things you've ever said, Potter," Snape interjected as Draco squawked out an incoherent denial, "that surely has to be in the top five." But the portrait's pale cheeks suddenly coloured, and he wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. Neither would Draco.

Harry removed his hand from between Draco's buttocks and crossed his arms over his chest. Was it cheating if your new boyfriend had a _thing_ for a painting of a dead man? he wondered wildly. On the heels of that thought came the absurd idea that if only Snape were alive, they could use the grease from his hair.

"Alright then," Harry said deliberately, addressing both of them. His trousers flopped open again and his cock peeked out; it had lengthened a bit with a shocking jolt of pleasure when Snape called him stupid, but―fuck, he just needed to get laid. And he was _never going to_ at this rate. Goddamned Slytherins. "Why were you so obviously watching us before you interrupted?"

"A lifetime of service critiquing and educating the next generation cannot be easily forgotten, Potter," Snape replied. 

"I— _what?_ " Harry murmured, shaking his head. Was he dreaming? If he turned around, would he see Goyle fucking the ghost of Crabbe? 

Harry looked at Draco. Draco's eyes were squeezed shut, his cheeks and chest flushed red. His prick was so hard it looked like it would require a trip to St Mungo's if it lasted longer than four hours. _Interesting_.

"I can teach you," Snape said finally, with characteristic drama, "how to bottle lust, how to brew lube, to even put a stopper on...premature ejaculation."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, but Draco was moaning and—Merlin— _writhing_ beneath him. Harry, never one to turn down an opportunity when it reared its head, grasped Draco's cock with a firm hand. Draco lunged forward to grab Harry's arse.

" _Standard Book of Adult Spells_ ," Snape said. "Turn to page 394."

"You have got to be kidding me," Harry said, scowling over at the portrait of Snape. "If you think I'm going to―"

"Bookshelf." Draco twisted beneath Harry, gasping, his prick harder than a copper cauldron. "Corner." He groaned and the sound of it went straight to Harry's cock, swelling it higher, firmer. "Third shelf, and for fuck's sake, just Summon it. You know wandless magic gets me harder."

Harry couldn't help his grin, even though Draco just heaved a sigh and flopped back against the mattress. 

"Just shut it and do what Severus said." Draco's breath was coming in sharp, short gasps now, and fuck, but Harry wanted nothing more than to bury himself in that brilliant arse. Still, with a sideways glance at Snape, hovering along the edge of his portrait frame, Harry snapped his fingers, and the book flew across the room, landing on the bed next to them. Draco's whole body shuddered beneath him as the wandless magic washed over him.

Snape inhaled sharply, and Harry glanced over at him again, taking in the faint flush on Snape's sallow cheeks, the way Snape was looking at Draco's ruddy prick, bobbing wetly over the flat, pale stretch of Draco's belly. 

Harry swallowed, then said to Snape, "He's bloody gorgeous, isn't he? Spread out here for us?" 

Draco tensed, his heels pressed down against the mattress, and he looked up at Harry, his eyes wide and bright. 

Harry let his fingertip drag along the curve of Draco's prick, and he turned back to Snape. "Page 394?"

Snape didn't say anything, not for a long moment, and then he nodded, and Harry was certain he could see Snape's hand shake as he pushed his hair back from his face. "It will open him up, at least enough for you to stretch him wider." Snape's glance settled on Harry's prick. "Which I'd say might be necessary, given your..." Snape licked his thin lips. "Endowment."  
Fuck, that was hot, and Harry half-hated himself for the shiver of desire that went through him at Snape's heated look. He glanced down at the book beside Draco's hip, and the pages started to ruffle and flip on their own, falling open at page 394. There was a drawing, spread across both pages, of two men, and Harry frowned down at it, not entirely certain it didn't look exactly like him and Draco. 

" _Penatratio Totalus_ ," Harry read beneath the bum of the man on the bottom, and Draco shifted beneath him, just a bit. Harry glanced down at him. "All right?"

Draco nodded, but a furrow formed between his brows. “It’s not…” He hesitated, his lip caught between his teeth.

“What?” Harry looked back at the book. “I said—”

“More force,” Snape snapped. “Honestly, Potter, you’re a bloody wizard who took down the Dark Lord. Put a bit of power behind your spell casting, you imbecile—”

" _Penatratio Totalus!_ ” Harry said, cutting Snape off, and Draco cried out, his whole body jerking.

“Oh.” Draco’s eyes were wide, his mouth soft and open. “Oh, that’s brilliant.”

Harry leaned closer to get a peek between Draco's spread legs and felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Draco's rim was loose and open, yawning at him and luring him in. He bit his lip as he imagined sinking his hard prick into the warm channel and his cock gave an interested twitch.

"That's..." Harry trailed off, his fingertips grazing lightly over Draco's inner thigh.

"Precisely," drawled Snape in an imperious tone.

Harry lifted one of Draco's legs to get into a better position, and Draco squirmed beneath him on the bed sheets, mumbling about how _open_ and _ready_ he was for Harry.

"Not so fast, Potter," Snape snapped. Harry halted, losing his balance and catching himself just before he toppled onto Draco.

"Don't squash me! You're here to fuck me, you arse!" Draco gasped, prodding his long fingers into the sensitive bits of Harry's skin. He was surely going to have finger-shaped bruises there later.

Harry inhaled deeply through his nose and shot a flat look over his shoulder at Snape's portrait.

"What, should I bring him closer so you have a better view?" Harry muttered.

Snape looked suspiciously like Harry had hit the newt on the nose before his oily-likeness regained composure and regarded them both with a piercing look. "Now that he's loose enough, stretch him. With your tongue first, and then add your fingers. Or is your tongue only worth its weight in Knuts when it's wagging in the wind?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape's smirk and whirled around to look down at Draco, who was beet red and trembling.

He tilted his head and considered the etiquette here. Was he meant to cast a cleaning charm first? He glanced over at the book and debated how annoyed Draco would be if he rifled through it for an arse-cleaning charm. He shrugged to himself and murmured a regular cleaning charm under his breath.

Draco yelped at the sensation and Harry gave him an apologetic look. 

"Oh for the love of Merlin, you are actually helpless," Snape grumbled from the corner. "Are you going to fuck him properly, or aren't you?"

"Going to pop out of that portrait and do it yourself, then?" Harry frowned over his shoulder, craning his neck to shoot the most possessive look he could at Snape's portrait, splaying his hand over Draco's belly.

Snape was lucky he was no longer alive, otherwise he'd have to fight Harry for the privilege.

"At least I would know how to do it properly. I know what he likes when he's all alone and pulling on his prick," Snape sneered nastily, and that made Harry flinch a bit, shooting Snape a sharp glare.

Draco rutted his hips into the air at the sound of Snape's voice. There was a bead of pre-come gathered at the flushed tip that made Harry hum under his breath. Draco made an answering sound in his throat when Harry leaned down to swipe it up with his tongue, tasting the bitterness.

"No, no, fuck me―please," Draco begged in a hoarse voice. "Not going to last long. Need you to do it now."

Harry grinned and settled onto his stomach between Draco's legs.

"Hold on a little longer. If not for me, for him," he nodded with a jerk of his chin towards the portrait in the corner of the room. "I'll bet he wants a good show."

Draco whined low in his throat and spread his legs wider, both to give Harry better access and to give Snape a better view.

"Get on with it, Potter," Snape barked. Harry thought he sounded rather impatient to see his prized pupil get buggered senseless.

"You're a dirty old bastard," Harry commented as he leaned down to plant a wet kiss above Draco's hole. "First your inappropriate fixation on my mother, and now you're fantasizing about your students?"

Harry clicked his tongue in mock-disappointment, only to yelp when Draco's fingers found his hair again and yanked his head forwards, closer to his arse.

"Shut. Up," Draco bit out through clenched teeth. " _Do what he says, Harry_."

Harry buried his nose between Draco's arsecheeks, his tongue sliding easily into Draco's stretched hole. Draco shot forward, and Harry had to fling a possessive hand out to restrain him by the hip, pulling him back into his mouth. Draco began howling like a banshee in heat, and Harry vaguely heard a dry chuckle behind him from the furore.

"That's it, Potter. But slowly. Lick with a bit more force." Snape's domineering voice was strangely soothing to Harry's jangled nerves. He always did want someone to tell him what to do, and this was strangely good for him as well. Draco was clearly getting off on it, so why not follow Snape's instructions? He pressed a bit more forcefully and was rewarded with Draco gasping.

"Oh, Circe, yes. Potter! That's exactly it." Draco's voice was rough and throaty, and Harry thought he might be able to come just from the hoarseness of it, urging him on.

"See, Potter. If you'd just learned to listen to me sooner, you might have been buried in Draco's arse much earlier." Snape's satisfaction radiated from the portrait, and if Harry hadn't had his hands full, he would have hauled off and smacked his salacious, beaky, oily face.

But then the thought struck Harry—what if Snape were right? What if Harry could have resolved the entire War by eating Draco's arse? What if countless lives could have been spared by rimming? He might not have gotten an Order of Merlin, First Class, for it, but he would have enjoyed it much more. Exponentially more than wanking himself raw in the Forest of Dean for bloody months on end.

"Fuck," Harry mumbled into Draco's skin. Draco's hole fluttered against Harry's mouth, tightening convulsively when Harry slipped his tongue inside again. Harry reached up blindly―his glasses had gotten too fogged up to see through―and found Draco's prick with one hand, slapping away Draco's slender fingers and working steadily over the length of it. " _Stop it. Mine_ ," Harry said breathlessly, pulling away for a moment.

Draco made a sharp, plaintive sound, but let his hand fall away. "I want―I want―"

Harry had the insane desire to fill in the blanks to that sentence, but found himself automatically craning his neck for further instruction. As the steam on his glasses cleared, the smug look on Snape's face caused a boiling feeling of loathing to flash through him, made worse by the way his cock had begun leaking, the head of it caught flat against his belly by the elastic waistband of his pants. He shoved them down defiantly, along with his trousers, kicking everything carelessly to the side. "Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you here for that? _Instruction_?"

Snape's haughty look faltered. If Harry wasn't mistaken, he was breathing a bit heavily in his frame. He cleared his throat and lifted one eyebrow, affecting a bored look. " _That_ virginal, are you, Potter?" he asked.

Harry bit his lip, then jerked his chin up. The bored look on Snape's face disappeared, and he actually _leaned forward,_ as though he might be able to press through the canvas. Harry swallowed, one hand still curled loosely around Draco's cock.

"Take your bloody spectacles off, Potter," Snape said tightly, and Harry pulled them from his face, Levitating them to the nightstand with a sweep of his hand.

"Potter," Draco growled desperately as Harry gave it a distracted squeeze. "Please, just..."

"Add your fingers. Two, if you please. They should slip right in," Snape told him hoarsely. His shoulder was making tiny, subtle movements, and Harry watched it, stunned, as it occurred to him that Snape's hand hadn't been visible for a while. 

Harry shivered, turning back to Draco, and gripped his fist tighter around Draco's shaft, gliding the foreskin back slowly. Draco's eyes were on the professor, lust-blown and unblinking, until Harry squeezed him again and said lowly, _"Look at me."_

Draco's gaze flickered; dropped. He struggled up on his elbows. "What?" he panted out against the moan that slipped free as Harry rewarded him with another smooth stroke. He looked flushed and messy and Harry _wanted him_.

"You like this―like Snape watching you. Watching us," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He lowered his head back to Draco's crease and gave a few firm, strong licks over Draco's swollen, loosened hole before raising his head again. "You like me eating you, touching you, while _Professor Snape_ is looking down on us.”

Draco shuddered. At just Harry's _words_ , his whole body shook, and Harry used his free hand to grip the base of his own cock as it throbbed warningly. Draco licked his lips. "I―I like it," he admitted. 

"Tell me what you like, then. Tell me, and I'll keep going," he murmured. He cast an irritated, challenging look back and snapped, "You too," at Snape's surprised face before lowering his head again.

He did as Snape had told him, sliding two fingers in immediately. Draco's body bowed, one foot coming up to press against Harry's shoulder, and if not for the cry of " _Oh, fuck, yes,_ " Harry might have thought Draco was pushing him away. But Harry's fingers sank in so easily, no resistance at all any more, and Harry watched with fascination as Draco's sphincter clenched around them; watched them press deeper and deeper until his knuckles were flush with the soft inside of Draco's arse cheek. He pumped them gently, then leaned down to lick at the skin surrounding them. 

Snape made a small, appreciative noise. "I see you _can_ think on your feet," he said approvingly. His voice was almost warm, and it sent a bright shock of tingling pleasure straight to Harry's neglected prick. "What should I tell you about, Potter? About how Draco 'forgets' to cover my portrait every night as he lounges in bed and pulls out his cock?"

Draco moaned. Harry swallowed, hips rutting against the air as he twisted his fingers deeper and pressed his mouth against the warm flesh around them, as Snape's voice, velvety-smooth, slid through him. Harry debated adding another finger for a moment, but then Draco gasped out, _"More!"_

"You heard the lad," Snape said. "He'd like three fingers, please."

A shudder went through Harry, and he couldn’t get a third finger into Draco’s hole fast enough. Draco arched up, pressed his arse against Harry’s fingers, rolling his hips, spreading his thighs wider. Draco's prick slapped lightly against his belly, and he groaned, deep and raw. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco breathed out, and his arse felt looser, slicker than Harry’d ever imagined. 

“Tell me how you wank for him,” Harry whispered, his breath a soft huff against Draco’s thigh, and Draco’s arse tightened around his fingers, squeezing hard. “Does he tell you how to touch yourself? How to do this?” Harry’s fingers were tight around Draco’s prick, moving slowly, carefully, his fingertips smoothing across the head of Draco’s cock. He pressed his thumb along Draco’s slit, opening it, dipping deeper into its slick wetness, and Draco tensed, his hands gripping at the coverlet beneath him. “Does it get you off to have him watch you?”

All Draco could do was nod, and his shoulders pushed back against the mattress, his hips rolling forward. 

Snape groaned from behind Harry, soft but so very distinct. “He’s quite fond of his foreskin, Potter.”

And Harry couldn’t stop himself, even if he wanted to. He pulled at Draco’s foreskin, sliding it up over the head of Draco’s prick. “Like this?” he asked, but he wasn’t looking at Draco. Not this time. His gaze found Snape’s, was caught by the sight of his professor, breathless and flushed, his dark eyes fixed on Harry’s. 

“Do you want to fuck him, Potter?” Snape asked as his glance slid to Draco. “You could do anything you wished to him right now, you know.”

Draco writhed against Harry’s hand, his body tight and taut. “Anything, Harry.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Anything you want.”

At those words, Harry found he no longer gave a damn about Snape's lesson. He growled, pressing his knees into the mattress and leveraging himself until his face was at the same level as Draco's. He steadied Draco's foot against his shoulder and finally, _finally_ grasped his neglected cock and slammed it into Draco's obscenely accommodating hole.

"Merlin bloody buggering fuck, it's about time!" Draco hissed, pressing into Harry's thrusts with enthusiasm. 

"Slow down, pupils," Snape said, though his voice sounded more strained than usual. "This behavior speaks of valuing short-term gains over long-term goals."

Harry was well and tired of Snape's micromanaging, even if it _was_ getting Draco off. Harry whipped his head around, his hips pressing forward over and over and over again, Draco writhing beneath him with each roll of their bodies together. "Those 'long-term goals' worked well for you when you were alive, did they?"

Snape's pumping shoulder stilled; his face flushed with anger. "Exceedingly arrogant as always, Potter," Snape snapped. "Thrusting about as if you can satisfy your lover if you finish in the blink of an eye."

To Harry's horror, his cock grew yet harder when Snape began to insult him. Draco, even lost in his pleasure, didn't fail to notice.

"Oh, _Circe_ ," Draco cried. "Insult him again, Severus."

Severus's painted eyes glazed over; his shoulder began moving again. "Potter, you are an arrogant, conceited—"

Harry's head fell back, eyes closed. He moaned, thrusting into Draco, slower than before even though he would never admit aloud that Severus had been right. 

"—Mediocre, fame-seeking," Severus continued, his voice breaking, "son of a bastard—" At this, Severus lost the power of speech, his voice breaking into a long, drawling groan.

" _Yes_ ," Draco moaned, long and drawn out and hitching with each thrust of Harry's hips. "God, Harry, that's so good. Right there, you bloody brilliant― _ah_!"

Harry's head was spinning as his hard cock was being strangled by the tight clench of Draco's hole, sucking him tighter, as if it were saying _come back here, you can't leave_. The praise from Draco and the degrading words from Snape were swirling together and crashing over him like a wave. Harry tried to think of Snape in Augusta Longbottom's house dress, like the Boggart Neville had faced in third year, but another velvety phrase from Snape about his arrogance and inability to satisfy and follow simple directions made another lick of electric pleasure shoot up his spine.

"Christ and Merlin _both_ ," Harry wheezed, hiking Draco's leg higher and giving a particularly sharp thrust.

"Look at you, you're like a randy bull on his first romp in the pasture," Snape growled. "Stabbing your hips like that―you pathetic excuse for a partner."

"Fuck you," Harry spat, even as his cock throbbed deep inside of Draco, earning him another sweetly keening moan from his boyfriend.

"Yes, _yes_ , more," Draco babbled incoherently. His hips were rocking in time with Harry's and his hand was moving quickly over his prick. Harry frowned down at Draco, batting his hand away.

" _Mine_ ," Harry reminded him fiercely, turning into a complete beast with no manners or sense of etiquette.

"Okay, yours," Draco panted. One of his hands flew to grip the headboard while the other groped at the coverlet. "As long as you fucking touch me, _please_ , I need―"

His whinging was cut off when Harry gave him another particularly sharp thrust while his fist curled around Draco's weeping prick. Harry worried for a moment that he had done something horribly wrong, that he'd managed to _hurt_ Draco, and once again he panicked that this would end in a trip to St Mungo's. Only― 

Only Draco was literally _shrieking_ , his back bowed up from the bed.

" _There_ ," Draco choked out, seemingly floating back to the bed. "Oh, fucking Circe, Potter. There, yes." He twisted into Harry's next thrust with a shout.

Harry turned to shoot a confused look at Snape's portrait, a question on the tip of his tongue about what he'd done. "What was―"

"Oh, Potter," Snape said, sounding both highly delighted and disappointed in him at the same time. "Please tell me you aren't such a feeble-minded idiot as to not know that you've just managed to find Draco's prostate."

Harry seemed to recall from the book Hermione had given him that that was something good. He certainly didn't know from experience―this was the furthest he'd ever gotten with anyone except his own hand. He was honestly afraid to try some of the things the book suggested without an experienced eye, but, well, now that he had Snape to advise him, he was sure he might venture into more adventurous manoeuvres.

"Keep going, Potter," Snape barked from behind him. "Don't stop for all you’re worth, you useless waste of Potions instruction. You've got to ride him like a Hungarian Horntail."

Harry wasn't quite sure what the similarity was, although he certainly felt close to death now as well. With Draco howling beneath him,, Harry pistoned in and out, nearly raising the bed from the floor and slamming it back.  
"Fuck. Yes. _Fuck_. Potter." Draco moaned. "Don't _fucking_ stop."  
"I told you, you Gryffindor idiot." Snape was breathless behind him. "Do not stop fucking him. Put your back into it, Potter!" 

From the low growl emanating from the portrait and the slight, dry sound of hand slapping flesh, Harry assumed Professor Snape was getting into the spirit of things himself. He spared a thought for the mechanics of how ghosts wank, wondering if his hand was supposed to pass through or if, well, it could meet its mark. Reminding himself that Snape was a portrait, not a ghost, he resolved to figure this out at some point, but not now. Right now he had his hands full with a squirming, shouting Malfoy, and Harry's resolve was beginning to crack.

Snape was making a wheezing sound behind him, muttering out insults about Harry's lack of skill, his poor technique, how he'd always known Harry wouldn't amount to anything―how he couldn't even _fuck his boyfriend properly_ ―and Harry surged forward, grinding his cock into Draco's arse. He felt the slick, clinging drag of Draco's channel around him, as Draco pumped his hips higher, trying to take more and white-knuckling the headboard behind him. 

"So good," Draco slurred out, eyes wild, pupils blown wide. "You're so fucking good at this, Harry, _fuck,_ do it harder, _please!_ " 

Harry's prick throbbed at Draco's words; he felt deliriously aroused and _so fucking confused_ about why the dichotomy of insults and praise being flung at him made the coil of tension indicating near-release rise in his belly, his groin. He fucked into Draco faster, wanking him erratically as his cock sought more friction, the perfect angle that would cause Draco's cock to spurt between them when―

" _Stop!_ " Snape barked. 

Harry stuttered to a halt with a loud whine, his hips continuing to thrust weakly before they stilled.

Draco went motionless too, almost boneless, before his face flared with fury. He popped his head over Harry's shoulder and roared, "Goddamn you, Severus, this is _not_ the time!"

Making a sound that even _he_ felt was rather pathetic, Harry balanced himself on trembling arms and peeked behind him. Snape was staring at them, flushed pink, his bottom lip swollen as if he'd been chewing on it.

"Face me," he ordered silkily. 

"What?" Harry looked at Draco, whose head fell back and hit the headboard.

Draco scowled up at Harry, clearly unhappy with this turn of events, but there was also an odd light in his eyes, a new excitement, like he'd been waiting for this order the whole time. He dragged his foot off from where it had inched up to dangle over Harry's shoulder and pressed it into his chest to give him a little shove away. Even just the motion of that, of Draco jostling his arse, made Harry want to weep for his own cock. With a pained sound, he pulled out of Draco and watched as Draco woodenly moved to his hands and knees, facing the portrait.

"Put your arse up, dear boy," Snape ordered him softly. "Let Potter see you." His shoulder began moving again, and he shifted where he sat. Harry wondered what he would look like if he stood up, then closed his eyes for a moment, appalled and even more turned on.

Draco obeyed him, pressing his forearms into the mattress, the slender line of his back dipping down as he displayed his arse. He inched his knees wider, his buttocks opening to reveal a glistening sheen of lube and his puffy, used rim, which clenched as Harry looked. Harry moaned, rising on his knees behind Draco, placing a steadying hand on the small of his back as his eyes sought Snape's. Snape nodded. 

" _Very_ good, Potter," he murmured. "It always impresses me when one as dull as you manages to learn a new skill. Push into him now."

Harry swallowed against the sudden flood of saliva. He slid into Draco more slowly this time, getting a feel for the rhythm of it even as Draco canted his hips up and back, greedily trying to get more of his prick. "I'm not going to last," Harry warned, and he wasn't sure who he was talking to.

“You will, Mr Potter,” Snape said and his voice was rough and almost angry. “You will come when I tell you to, and not a bloody moment before, do I make myself clear?”

For a moment Harry thought about refusing, about slamming his prick deep into Draco’s arse and losing himself until Draco dripped with his spunk. And then he looked up, and his eyes met Snape’s. Something went through him, something hot and hungry and unexpected, something that made his breath catch with surprise. Harry realised that he wanted Snape to watch them fuck, wanted Snape to see him taking Draco like this, so wanton, so open, so needy.

“Perfectly,” Harry said, and then he added, with only the slightest bitterness in his voice, “Sir.” 

“Fuck,” Harry heard Snape say, and it was so quiet he almost thought he imagined it as Draco arched and keened beneath Harry, soft raspy breaths rising and falling according to the press of Harry’s prick inside of him. Snape’s eyes glinted, his bottom lip reddened from the press of his teeth into it as he bent forward, hair falling lankly against his cheek, one arm pressed against the frame of the portrait, the other hidden beneath it. 

And Harry, horrified, knew at that moment he wanted to see Snape, to know what the man was doing, how he was touching himself. Gripping Draco’s hip tightly with one hand, Harry raised his other to his nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb, his eyes fixed on Snape’s flushed face. “Is this what you’d like?” Harry asked. “To watch me bugger Draco?”

Snape breathed out, rough and uneven. “Badly? I think not, Potter.”

Harry just gave him a tight, thin smile. “So if I stopped, you’d be fine with that.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” Draco managed to choke out, his damp face half-pressed against his forearms, half against the mattress. “I swear to God, Harry—”

Harry’s hand rose, almost of its own free will, then smacked down across the smooth curve of Draco’s arse, the sound hard and loud and sharp against their quiet breaths, and Draco’s body jerked beneath him, shuddered, his cry nearly muffled by the coverlet. 

“Shit,” Draco said. “Shit, Harry, yes, fucking Circe—“

“Again.” Snape’s voice sounded almost strangled. His hand was definitely moving beneath the picture frame, faster, his chest heaving, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. “Potter, if you don’t—”

Harry’s hand landed against the soft skin of Draco’s arse once more, and the sound of Snape and Draco groaning in unison was almost enough to put Harry over the edge. His hips stuttered forward; he caught himself with one hand as he fell forward, over Draco’s long, pale back. 

“Don’t,” Snape said, but it wasn’t quite as forceful as before. “Don’t come, Potter—”

And Draco pushed his arse back, rolling against Harry’s thrust. “Oh, do Harry. Please do,” he said, far too breathily for Harry’s comfort. “Come on, you bastard. Fuck me. Fill me. Harry. Please.”

Harry looked up at Snape, and he was barely keeping himself in control as he gritted out, “Show me. I want to see—”

Somehow, Snape seemed to know what Harry was asking, and he pushed himself up, out of the seat, rising so that Harry could see the gape of his open trousers, the thick, wet, ruddy head of his prick sliding between those long, potion-stained fingers. 

“Jesus,” Harry said, and he couldn’t believe how fucking big Snape’s prick was.

Draco looked up, his neck straining against the awkward angle. His eyes widened as they found the brushstrokes that made up Snape's prick.

With one swift movement, Draco lowered himself to the mattress, dislodging Harry's cock, turned over, and pushed Harry onto his back. 

"What—?" Harry asked, trying to look over his shoulder at Snape.

"Oh for Circe's sake," Draco said, rotating Harry's body ninety degrees so that Harry could still see Snape. Then Draco grabbed Harry's prick from where it was bobbing against his torso and guided it into his arse as he lowered himself down, his hands flat against Harry's chest. 

Harry moaned unintelligibly as Severus rasped, "Yes, you were my star student for a reason, Draco! Good initiative!" Then Severus's gaze dropped to Harry, who was flat on the bed. "But you—" his voice dripped with venom and something else, something almost like yearning-- "you are a miserable pile of Flobberworm dung—"

Harry's brain swam as Draco impaled himself on Harry’s cock, whispering a string of obscenities and filth, and Snape insulted him, which made Harry feel like a rule-breaking teenager all over again. "Oh, Merlin!" Harry yelled. "Draco, Snape, let me come!"

Draco locked eyes with the portrait. "Severus." His voice was breathy with want. He raised himself up, and Harry saw his prick nearly leave Draco's body, then Draco dropped so quick, so hard that his arse hit Harry's hips. Harry groaned under him, eyes watering, pressure building in his head and his prick. "Let him come. I don't want Potter to expire because you're greedy."

"Very well," Snape said, his hand a blur on his gigantic, dripping cock. "I suppose needs must. Although I should warn you both, I could drag this out all night, if you don’t behave."

Draco gave a muffled gasp, and Harry'd had enough. He raised his hands up to Draco's hips whilst locking eyes with Snape. "Please." Harry nearly bit through his lip with want. His body was shaking out of his control, the slick heat of Draco on his prick extinguishing nearly everything else in his world including thought, sound, and breath.

"Come on, then, Potter. Let's see if your orgasming skills are any better than your Potions brewing, you insufferable nitwit." Snape's eyes bored into Harry's. "You may come."  
With a rough cry, Draco reached for his own dripping prick as Harry pulled him down, impaling him. Harry's vision whited out and all he could hear was the intermixed cries of Draco, bouncing himself on Harry's prick, and Severus urging, "Yes, yes, that's it. Come on, Draco. You can come now, too. Let me see you."  
Harry's prick exploded in a rush of spunk and his body shivered explosively. Shuddering waves of sensation wracked his sweating body as Draco clenched around him and spat out, "Oh! Fuck. Harry. I can't believe you’re actually fucking me." And then Draco was shouting his climax, cries echoing off the stones of the dungeon.

Snape growled roughly from his portrait. "Fuck! Ten. Points. To Gryffindor."

Harry's hips continued to jerk helplessly under Draco's bouncing arse, his crazed eyes darting back and forth between the pulsing of Snape's preposterously huge cock—which was striping the inside of his portrait with long ropes of come—and the heady vision of Draco bouncing over him, stretched around his throbbing cock as Draco's thigh muscles bunched and released, raising and lowering himself on it, his head thrown back. He could feel Draco's warm spunk splatter against his stomach, see the way Snape's was dripping down his side of the canvas as though it were a window. He made a choked sound, reaching up to tangle his hands in Draco's pale locks and give his hair a rough pull as he gave one last, furious thrust, riding out the last wave of his orgasm.

Harry released the fist in Draco's hair when he whimpered, and Draco fell forwards over Harry's chest, his back heaving, his face pressed against the curve of Harry's neck . Harry gulped in large lungfuls of air, eyes falling shut as he tried to gain control over the galloping of his heart.

A beat passed. Then Draco, fuming, growled, " _He_ gets ten points?"

Harry lifted his head, feeling dizzy. Snape was calmly rebuttoning his robes, his face still pink but no longer wound with tension. He regarded Draco evenly. "I give you ten points _every night_ , Draco. Don't pout, it doesn't become you."

The strangeness of the situation began to filter into Harry's mind again, even more when Draco lifted up and Harry's slick, softening cock slipped out of him. Snape looked at it, smirking, and Harry grabbed a pillow to cover himself. Draco rolled his eyes, shifting back into a more comfortable position. "Fine, but that's _your_ pillow tonight."

A startled laugh escaped Harry. What the bloody fuck had just happened? "Wait a minute," he said, his mind catching up with his sweetly buzzing body. " _Every night_?" 

Draco bit his lip, and Snape cleared his throat. Silence fell for a long moment.

“Yes, well.” Draco said finally. “Don’t be angry, Harry.” He ran his hands over his face, then sighed. “Merlin, Severus, you arsehole.”

“Only speaking the truth,” Snape said calmly, and Harry just waited, looking over at his boyfriend. Snape snorted, smoothing down the front of his rebuttoned frock coat. “Oh, don’t be so petulant, Potter. It’s nothing. Just a bit of voyeurism. Mr Malfoy has always been rather….” He looked over at Draco. “A bit of an exhibitionist, shall we say?”

Draco just flipped two fingers Snape’s way. He sprawled across the pile of pillows stacked against the headboard, not the least embarrassed by his naked body on display. “Severus likes watching me wank, the pervert.” But his voice was gentle. Affectionate. A bit more fond than Harry was comfortable with. 

“I’ve so few joys now that I’m confined to oil paints and brush strokes,” Snape said with a scowl. “Allow me those I can have.”

Harry frowned between the two of them. “You’re not dating him, are you?” he demanded of Draco, and the look Draco turned on him was startled and more than a bit taken aback. 

“He’s twice my age,” Draco said, sharply. “And besides, it’s not _my_ mother he’s had a pash on—”

“Do shut your mouth, Mr Malfoy.” Snape sat back down in his frame, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Or would you like me to tell Mr Potter exactly when he started to become fantasy material for your masturbatory activities?” He studied his fingernails before glancing slyly at Draco, whose face had turned a rather fetching pale pink. 

That, Harry thought, was something he’d most definitely be interested in knowing. He quirked an eyebrow at Draco. 

“Fuck off,” Draco said, but a small smile curved the corners of his mouth. He stretched out, his arms above his head, and Merlin, but he looked delicious like that, pale and long and lithe against the dark coverlet. Harry felt his cock twitch again. 

“You really want me to?” Harry dragged himself across Draco’s hips, let his mouth press against Draco’s jaw. “Because I could probably…”

Draco pushed at Harry’s shoulder. “No,” he said, but when Harry grabbed Draco’s hip, pulling him on top, Draco only laughed. “You’re insatiable.”

“For you?” Harry nipped at Draco’s earlobe, ran his hands along the knobby curve of Draco’s spine. “Yeah.”

Snape sighed from his portrait frame. “Youth,” he said, with a sneer, but Harry thought he heard a wistful twinge of envy hidden behind the disdain.

Draco let his forehead fall onto Harry's chest. Harry’s eyes had just closed when he heard a shuffling noise from Severus's portrait, and he opened them again. Severus was fully dressed, but he wasn't alone. Phineas Nigellus and Armando Dippet had just shuffled into the frame. Phineas was munching on a pear that Harry strongly suspected was from the painting by the kitchens.

"Good evening, Sev, I hope we're not late," Headmaster Dippet said. Then he yelped, spotting Harry. "Oh! Potter, you startled me." 

Harry raised himself on one forearm to get a better view of Draco and raised an eyebrow.

“My goodness,” Headmaster Dippet said faintly, hand hovering over his mouth. “Sweet, delicate Merlin. The _depravity_.”

Draco swallowed. Harry blinked. Severus glowered two-dimensionally. 

Phineas, however, only shrugged, surveying them all fondly. 

“Eh.” Phineas took another bite of the crisp pear, rocking up on the balls of his feet and then back down again. He smirked. “You should see what Dumbledore has been getting up to in _his_ portrait.”


End file.
